Helloitsmecastiel from instagrams journal entries

Untitled Part 1

I was sitting outside this afternoon while Dean took a nap. I posted a poem for him and he wrote back because he wasn't asleep after all.
It was all in the comments. I'm sure you read the whole thing.
After I sent Dean a sort of piece of poetry of my own, he wanted me to come see him.
So I did.
He was looking through my sketchbook (I'm okay with that) when I came in and he said, Come here angel.
I went and lay down with him and he said, Did you mean that?
I said, What Dean?
He said, What you wrote, about giving up your grace for you and not for me.
I said, Yes.
He said, Will you kiss me Castiel?
I did. And I longed to taste him as a human would.
He carded his fingers through my hair and said, his forehead against mine, I'm thinking about it.
I said, About what?
His eyes were closed. He said, Living with you. Then he whispered, Human you.
I said, Me too.
We stayed in bed for the rest of the afternoon and kissed and talked and Dean sang to me with my head on his chest and his hands in my hair and his voice and his heartbeat resonating in my ear.
And then Alice texted and invited us to dinner, so here we are.
I like this chandelier in the bar.
Dean and Bernard are talking about classic cars and Alice is talking to her granddaughter on the phone, so I thought I would write a little something.
I feel good tonight.
More like myself.
I love Dean

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Last night Dean sat up with me while I drew. I took this photo then. He seemed very troubled. I fell asleep near dawn.
I woke up later to the sound of Dean struggling to breathe. He sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders heaving.
I said, Dean, and he startled.
I said, Nightmare?
He didn't turn, so I got up and moved around the bed so I could look in his eyes.
His eyes were shut, brows lowered. His elbows were pulled in as he leaned forward, hands fisted together.
His face was a mess. Swollen on the left side, brow and cheekbone and lip split. His nose looked broken. Marks that would soon become a network of bruises.
The top of his forearm was sliced open.
I put out my hand and he flinched.
I touched his temple and he said, WAIT, but I didn't. He touched his restored face, covered his mouth, and then dropped his hand and said, FUCK Cas.
I said, Dean what HAPPENED?
He sighed.
I said, Tell me.
He said, You. You happened.
I leaned back from him and looked around. I started to notice things. The circle of burned carpet. The smell of holy oil. My angel blade on the floor near the window. Dean's torn clothing. The blood sigil on the wall.
I swore in Enochian and saw Dean taste fear.
I said, Tell me.
He said, It doesn't matter. I know where the reliquary is now.
I said, Where?
Dean said, He hid it in a cemetery.
I said, Who did?
Dean sighed again. He said, Castiel. Angel of the fucking Lord, asshole Wrath of Khan Castiel.
I said, I did this to you?
Dean explained how I had been changing and not remembering.
He said, We gotta get this shit buttoned up before you kill someone. I don't think he'll be coming back anytime soon though.
I said, Why?
He said, He was genuinely surprised I had the holy fire prepared. I told him I'd learned a lot about angels and that I had ways to bind him and make him suffer and if he came back, I would kill him.
I said, What ways do you have?
Dean scoffed and said, I have jack shit. I have holy fire and an angel blade I would never use. But he fell for it. I said, Dean I'm so sorry.He shook his head.
He said, It doesn't matter. We just need to fix you. Let's go, we can borrow Bernard's car.
He stood up and swayed and almost fell.
I said, You need to sleep.
He said, Fuck that.
I said, You need to be awake to drive.
He said, You can drive.
I said, Considering everything, that might not be the best idea.
He thought for a moment and said, Yeah. You're right.
I said, Why don't you take a shower and get cleaned up and then you can sleep for a bit. I'll watch over you.
He kind of laughed.
I said, You said he wasn't coming back anytime soon.
He said, I know. It's just... .
I said, Do you really think he's gone for now?
He said, Yes.
I said, Okay then. Take a moment to rest and then we'll go.
Dean said, Okay.
He looked around the room, shook his head and said, Shower with me?
I said, Are you sure?
He did, Yeah. I need you. The real you... close.
I said, Okay.
So we showered and I held Dean and he looked very tired and worn.
He shook when I touched him, I'm sure because these hands had just beaten him bloody.
Still, he let me wash his hair and run my fingers over his skin. And I told him I was sorry many times until he finally said, Castiel shut up, and kissed me. But the kiss made him cry and I worried at what he might not have told me.
He got dressed and lay down and pulled me down with him and I held him until he fell asleep.
He slept for two hours and I took this photo and I bitterly wept that I had hurt my Dean and then he woke up and we have borrowed Bernard's car and we are driving to find the reliquary.